


"I Feel Like You're Doing Something Stupid." || Fred Weasley x Reader

by xRag_Queenx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fake Relationship, Slow Burn, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRag_Queenx/pseuds/xRag_Queenx
Summary: "So, how do you know George?""Uh, I'm dating his brother," you said, thinking off the top of your head."Really?" Lee's face lit up. "Good for Fred, he needed someone."He patted your shoulder and headed back to the drink table. You raised the drink to your lips again only to almost spill it on yourself when someone tapped your shoulder."Hey, babe.""Who are you?" you asked, eyes narrowed."I'm your boyfriend." The redhead stuck out a hand. "Fred Weasley, love."
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Reader
Comments: 26
Kudos: 221





	1. Chapter 1

Let's face it. You were never one for parties, so it wasn't surprising how badly you stuck out. You had ditched your House colors for a plain tee and jeans. You had a bottle of butterbeer and you stayed close to the wall, trying to shrink away from the rowdier Gryffindors.

One of the more intoxicated seventh years made his way to your side. "Hey, cutie," he slurred, slinging an arm around your shoulders, peering down your shirt. "What're you doing here all alone?"

You scrunched up your nose. "Please leave me alone."

The older boy only laughed and nuzzled his face into your neck. "C'mon, doll," he mumbled. "This is a party, you're supposed to have fun, let loose for a while. Don't be so stuck up." 

"I'm pretty sure they said no, Carter."

You looked up and saw a tall boy with dreadlocks watching you, his arms crossed. He held his hand out to you and you took it, letting him drag you away from the boy he'd called Carter. He took you to the drink table and got you a new butterbeer. "Just in case," he said, flashing you a dimpled smile. "Some guys are pretty sleazy."

You grinned. "Tell me about it. Lemme guess," you said, leaning against the wall. "It's your solemn duty to protect everyone from the sleazy, desperate, intoxicated ones." 

He saluted you with two fingers. "Yep, your guess is correct," he said, bowing low. "Lee Jordan, protector of the innocent and the ass-kicker of the... not-so-innocent." He grinned. "And who might you be?"

You tipped your bottle in his direction. "Y/N L/N, one of the innocents." You curtsied, sipping from the bottle. "It was an honor to be protected by you, Lee."

He leaned against the wall next to you and began scouting out the sleazes. Apparently satisfied with the peace, he turned his attention back to you. "So, how'd you get invited?"

You swallowed the sip of butterbeer, mulling over how to answer. You didn't want to tell him you ducked in after almost getting caught by Filch past curfew, and the Room of Requirement party was the first thing you remembered. "Hm?"

"The end-of-year party was the twins' idea," Lee pressed. "So, how do you know George? He was the one who handed out the invitations."

"Uh, I'm dating his brother," you said, thinking off the top of your head.

Lee's face lit up. "Really?" he asked. "That's great, good for you. Fred really needed someone." He patted your shoulder and made his way to the center of the room. You put the bottle to your lips again, about to take a sip, when someone tapped your shoulder. You jumped, almost spilling butterbeer down your front.

Two redheads stood behind you. Their bright blue eyes twinkled. "Hi," one of them said, his splash of freckles glittering under the light. "Lee told us where you were. I'm George, and this is--"

"She knows who I am, you dolt," the second twin interjected.

"Anyway!" George interrupted. "You're my brother's girlfriend? About time he got one, honestly, he's been lonely for ages. How long have you two been together?"

You paled. Well, shit. Karma's working pretty fast. You said nothing, your face tinged bright pink. The second twin slung his arm around your waist, smiling. "She's shy," he told George, pulling you close. "It's really new to the both of us. We've been together for two weeks." He turned to you. "I haven't seen you all night," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "I believe you still owe me a dance."

You let him lead you onto the dance floor, pulling you into a slow dance. You fell into rhythm, one hand holding his and the other resting on his shoulder. After a few minutes, you spoke.

"I'm really sorry," you told him, shaking your head. "I have no idea why I said that. Jeez, I'm so slow."

"It's okay, uh…"

"Oh Merlin, you don't even know my name." You blushed. "Y/N."

"It's okay, Y/N," the twin continued. "I'd date me too, no problem. But now I've got to lie to George. Oh, I'm Fred, by the way. Fred Weasley." He twirled you out and brought you back in to his chest.

"You don't have to," you pointed out. "Lie to him, I mean. I can tell him the truth."

"What, and risk breaking his poor heart?" Fred asked. "C'mon. You can't honestly tell me that you could march on over to him and tell him that I'm still lonely." He quirked a brow at you.

You sighed, biting your lip. "I suppose not," you mumbled. "Looks like you're stuck with me, then."

Fred smiled at you. "Oh, this is going to be fun." He cleared his throat. "As your boyfriend, Y/N, I must invite you over for the summer to meet my family." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Your face tinged dark pink as led you off the dance floor to go sit with him and George. "I- I guess I can come...? The whole summer...?"

"Yup," George interjected. "Three whole months of the Weasley/Potter madness. You're doomed."

Fred smacked him upside the head. "Are you trying to scare her off, you total idiot? We have to get through the train ride tomorrow."

You sighed, squeezing Fred's hand gently. You had no idea what you had gotten yourself into, and judging by the smirk on Fred's face, you certainly were doomed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You squeaked as Fred wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "Morning, Y/N," he mumbled, humming. The warmth of his breath on your neck made your hair stand on end. "You packed and ready to go?"
> 
> Your face turned pink. "Yeah. But please. Don't play pretend when there's no one around."
> 
> Fred nodded, his smile slipping just a bit. He let go of you and picked up your suitcase, just as George came down. "After you," he said, opening the portrait hole.

You barely got any sleep that night. When you got up around seven a.m., you were exhausted beyond belief. You stumbled around, packing your suitcase, and throwing on a pair of jeans. You searched around for a sweater, your eyes landing on a maroon one that you were sure wasn't yours. There was a note clipped to the wool, and you pulled it off with shaking hands.

Y/N~  
George said I ought to give you one of my jumpers, though he never gave me a straight answer as to why. Apparently it's something girls like, and I guess you're no exception. It might be a little big.  
~F

You picked up the maroon sweater and unfolded it. A large, gold F was emblazened on the front. Shrugging, you pulled it on, smiling when it swallowed your hands. It fell below your thighs, and you lazily tucked it in, just enough to still resemble a loose, baggy sweater.

You wheeled your suitcase down to the common room, humming an old Muggle tune under your breath. You picked up your coat off the back of a chair, folding it and and tossing it in your suitcase. A pair of arms snaked themselves around your waist and you squeaked.

"Morning, Y/N. You look great in my clothes," Fred mumbled, nuzzling his face into your shoulder with a hum. The warmth of his breath on your neck made your hair stand on end, goosebumps pebbling your arms. "You packed and ready to go?"

"Yeah," you said, your face flushed. "But, please. Don't play pretend when no one else is around."

Fred nodded, his smile slipping just a bit. He let go and straightened up, picking up your suitcase just as George came down. Fred opened the portrait hole for you, bantering playfully with his brother. When you made it to the Great Hall, George stopped you both.

"We just wanted to say," he began, "that none--"

"--and we mean none--" Fred interjected.

"--of our family believes that you two are together," George finished. "So, for the sake of our egos, act all lovey-dovey and sweet."

You grinned, lacing your fingers through Fred's. "I'm always lovey-dovey," you protested, before opening the door to the doors. You and Fred marched to the Gryffindor table, his arm around your shoulders, hands still intertwined. He led you to a table where a brunette, a redhead, and a ravenette were waiting.

"Oi, what's the-- Wow." The redhead waved, his ears red. "Hi. You must be the girlfriend Fred was telling us about. I'm Ron."

"I'm Harry," the black-haired boy said with a small smile.

"I'm Hermione," the brunette said, barely looking up from her book.

You sat down with them, leaning into Fred's chest. "Hi," you greeted. "Yeah, that's me. I'm Y/N."

"Well, it's nice to know you're real," Ron said, earning himself a smack with Hermione's heavy book. "Ow, bloody hell, 'Mione!"

"That's rude, Ronald!" Hermione scolded. She turned back to you. "Suppose you're a fifth year as well, right? We're third years."

You nodded, letting Fred feed you a piece of toast. It was awkward, acting like a couple when you weren't. You hummed in assent, your head cradled in the crook of his neck. He was rubbing your side with one hand, resting it on your waist, and you huffed. Were relationships this touchy?

Truth was, you were afraid. You didn't want to catch feelings for anyone, least of all one of the biggest troublemakers in the school. Some of the things that had already crossed your mind were enough to make grown men flinch. You felt your spine stiffen, and you tried to relax. You had just taken a sip of pumpkin juice when George decided to ask a kind of personal question.

"Have you two kissed yet…?"

You choked, orange spray coming out of your mouth and nose, burning your olfactory nerves on the way out. Hermione squeaked, ducking behind her book, while Ronald and Harry went off in a gale of uproarious laughter. Fred picked up a napkin to clean off your face, biting back a grin. You snatched the napkin back and stood up, pressing your lips into a thin line as you ran back to your dormitory.

You pulled off the oversized sweater, laying it on your bed and pulling your wand out of your pocket. You ran your fingers over the now stained wool before training the tip of your wand on it and murmuring, "Tergio!"

"You don't have to put it back on."

You shrieked, crossing your arms over your bare chest. Fred stood in front of you, watching you with a smile. He turned his head away and signaled for you to get dressed. You put the sweater back on, your face bright pink. Fred fucking Weasley, your fake boyfriend, had just seen you in nothing but a bra and skinny jeans.

You made your way back around to Fred's side, just as George's voice called out. "I'm coming in!"

Faster than you could blink, Fred was cradling your face in his hands, and he leaned in just as George popped his head in, pressing his lips to yours-- or so it seemed. His thumbs were brushing against your lips, and his lips were pressed against his own thumbs.

George wolf-whistled and applauded, making Fred pull away sheepishly and rub the back of his neck.

"Come on, you lovebirds," George teased. "We're going to miss the train."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, I-- Y/N, what are you doing…?" Ron's voice had risen in pitch, his eyes wide as he pressed himself against the compartment wall. "Are you insane?"
> 
> All eyes in the compartment were on you now, and Lee let out a laugh. His tarantula was crawling up your arm, and you were cooing to it softly. You blushed. "Sorry."
> 
> "Don't be!" Lee said with a grin. "Do you know how long it took to get Fred to touch that, much less let it crawl all over him?" Lee turned to Fred. "Man, if you don't treat her right, I'm gonna take her."
> 
> You laughed nervously.
> 
> "I dunno, Lee, I think I'm in love," Fred said in a weak voice.

"Budge up there, Ron, make some room for us…"

You were already regretting agreeing to this. You were bunched into a compartment with Hermione, Ron, Harry, Fred, George, Lee, and Lee's pet tarantula. You were basically in Fred's lap by now, and you cursed silently. 

"Wait," you said, standing up. "You three, stay where you are." You turned to Lee, Fred and George. "You three take the other bench."

Everyone resituated, and George looked at you. "Okay, so…" he said slowly. "You've got us all seated. Where are you supposed to sit, then?" He raised an eyebrow.

You inhaled sharply. "Fred, uncross your legs?"

Fred did as instructed and set his feet flat on the floor. With a small prayer to whatever god may be listening, you settled yourself in his lap, your face bright pink. George snorted and quickly covered it up with a cough. Fred's face was bright red, his eyes wide.

The boys started an argument over a Quidditch team, and Hermione hid behind her book. You sat on Fred's lap, head on his shoulder, bored. The shoebox that held Lee's tarantula had overturned, and the arachnid was climbing up Fred's leg, unseen by everyone else. You leaned forward and let it crawl onto your hand.

You watched as it crawled up your left arm, around your shoulders, and down your right arm. The boys had fallen silent.

"Hey, I-- Y/N, what are you doing?" Ron's voice had risen in pitch, his eyes wide as he pressed himself into the wall of the compartment. "Are you insane?!"

All eyes were on you now, and Lee let out a laugh. His tarantula was crawling back up your arm, and you were cooing to it softly. You blushed, cradling it in the palm of your hand, stroking its head with your finger. "Sorry," you mumbled. "He's just really cute. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Lee said, grinning. "Do you know how long it took to get Fred touch that, much less let it crawl all over him?" He turned to Fred. "Man, if you don't treat her right, I'm gonna take her."

You laughed nervously.

"I dunno, Lee, I think I'm in love," Fred said weakly.

Your face burned and you returned your attention to the tarantula. Fred was a good actor, you noticed. He was watching you with a goofy smile on his face, and if it was physically possible, you would've bet your wand that he was making heart eyes at you.

You handed Lee his tarantula back apologetically and nuzzled your face into Fred's neck, your face pink, trying to breathe. Millions of thoughts were spinning through your head, making you dizzy. You worked on seperating questions from answers, and trying to match them.

Was he just acting?

Of course he was. He didn't even know your last name. This was just a ploy to please his family, which kind of stung. Not because you liked him or anything. Of course not.

Did you like him at all?

That was a bad question. You did like him, a lot. He was sweet, kind, and really funny. But you barely knew him. You knew of him, of course, he was well-known in your year. But hearing about someone wasn't enough to make you like them.

Could you ever like him? 

Probably…? You couldn't tell. You could fall in love with George, or Lee, hell, you could even fall in love with Ron. But Fred? Even with the fake boyfriend thing? Maybe. You could give it a chance.

Another question demanded your attention, but the steady movement of the train and Fred's quiet breathing lulled you into unconsciousness, your subconscious blinking out before fully memorizing the question.

When you woke up again, Fred was carrying you to a red-haired couple, the woman of which was crying and smiling, holding onto her husband's arm for dear life. You whined softly and stirred, holding onto Fred's shirt loosely. He looked down at you, his bright blue eyes twinkling.

"Good morning," he mumbled quietly. "Do you want me to set you down…?"

You nodded. "I don't want to tire you out," you told him. 

He set you down and you stretched, your back popping. You laced your fingers through his, squeezing gently as you did. He smiled at you, and you returned the smile with a pink face. When you reached the older couple, the woman threw her arms around you.

"You must be the girlfriend Fred wrote to us about, dear, I'm Molly, and this is my husband Arthur, it's lovely to meet you," she said happily, wiping her eyes.

"Merlin, Mum," Fred grumbled. "Let her breathe. You don't want her to leave before she's even gotten to the Burrow, do you?"

His complaints fell on deaf ears. Molly turned to begin doting over Harry and Hermione, hugging them both so tightly that you thought their ribs would snap. Arthur turned to you with an apologetic smile, and you waved him off, shaking his hand.

"I'm Arthur," he said again, a little lamely.

"Y/N," you said with a grin.

You caught Harry's eye, laughing as he was berated for his size and smothered in kisses. He gave you the stank eye, sticking his tongue out at you, before promptly tripping over his shoelace. Fred and George burst into laughter, hanging onto each other for dear life.

Digging in your backpack, you pulled out two boxes. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?" you called softly, praying to any god who would listen that those were the last names they used. "As a... thank-you gift for letting me stay over this summer, I got you both something."

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, a hand over her heart. "You really shouldn't have, it's really no problem, we'd love to have you."

You handed them their respective boxes, waving off Mrs. Weasley's refusal. Fred grinned and squeezed your hand, secretly amazed at your dedication. Mrs. Weasley opened hers first, and the waterworks started again when she saw what was inside.

"I didn't really now what you liked, so, yeah..." you said nervously, scratching the back of your neck. It was an enchanted cookware set, which might have been insensitive, now that you thought about it.

"It's amazing, dear," she said thickly, wrapping you in another hug. "Just thinking about how much of a lifesaver this will be this summer, with all the extra guests."

"Oh," you said shortly. "I'm sorry."

"You're fine," she said offhandedly, patting your back gently. "I love the company, really."

When she let go, you turned to Mr. Weasley. He opened his box, and his face fell into a puzzled scowl. He pulled out a Swiss army knife, and you giggled at the puzzled looks on the Weasleys' faces. You took the time to show him how to unfold all the parts and refold them, then helped him clip it on his pocket. He was extremely excited to have it, asking as many questions as possible.

"You're a sweetheart, dear," Mrs. Weasley murmured, patting your cheek, "but please, try to refrain indulging him in his Muggle fanatics when you can. It's a silly hobby."

Fred snorted and took your hand in his, pulling you to a rundown grey truck outside in the parking lot. "We're sitting in the bed," he mumbled. "Not enough room up… Oh, jeez, I forgot to ask to meet your parents." He facepalmed, and you giggled.

"It's okay," you said gently. "I live in a community home for the summer anyway, my parents died a long time ago."

He sat next to you in the bed of the truck. "Oh," he said shortly. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. Were they...?"

"They were Muggles," you said with a shrug. "Killed in a driving accident. They decided to down a few pints and take a nice drive, taking out another young couple when they crashed."

Fred said nothing but held you, and for once, you let him. It felt nice, just being held. His fingers toyed with your hair aimlessly, and you smiled. Soon enough, the rest of the Weasley siblings piled into the back, and the parents got in the cab. The truck roared to life, and soon you were on your way.

You sat in Fred's lap again, talking animatedly with the twins about the joke shop they wanted to start. You said you'd be open to help, and George jumped on the idea, excited to have another team member.

"I can't have employee relationships, it might be devastating if you ever broke up," he said seriously. At your pout and Fred's frown, he relented. "Fine, fine," he sighed. "Just no going to the back together, at least not during store hours."

You turned pink and buried your face in Fred's neck, trying to ignore Ron and Ginny's laughter. Fred laughed and began playing with your hair, engaging in the rest of the conversation.

You tried to get back into it, but your vocal cords only let out a hum of assent to the gentle fingers in your hair. Fred smiled and starting braiding your hair, talking about places to set up.

"Start at Hogwarts," you mumbled sleepily, your eyes closed. 

George and Fred looked at you, the latter boy's hands slipping from your hair. You whined softly and sat up against his chest, letting the wind whip your hair back. You blinked twice, trying to wake yourself up before speaking.

"Start at Hogwarts," you suggested again. "I can help with that. Put up posters, do demonstrations, that sort of thing. Word gets around at Hogwarts faster than anywhere else. And some kids have siblings or family members who might spread the word elsewhere."

The truck was silent, and you started to regret speaking out. Then a small, appreciative smile spread across George's face. "Well, well, well," he said softly, the smile growing. "Looks like we've got ourself a fourth troublemaker."

Ron and Ginny snorted and whispered in unison, "Oh, no..."

Fred grinned, his eyes soft and bright, and your earlier question came back, full force, to hit you in the face. It attacked your mind, making you wince and hold your head in your hands. Fred frowned at you, rubbing your back, surprised at your sudden change in mood.

What would you do if you actually fell for him?

The answer was simple. Hide from your feelings like you always do. He's just a friend, you'd tell yourself, even if you were still faking the relationship. You'd move on, and so would he. This wouldnt mean anything... right…?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Tis I, back from my slumber. I'm running on six Monsters, two Bangs, a Five-Hour Energy, and a muffin. Please, don't make fun of this chapter if it sucks.
> 
> ***
> 
> "And I know it's hard," you said, wiping your eyes. "I'm under the influence of two and a half butterbeers and attempted assault, and I just throw myself at you…"
> 
> "Hey, no," Fred murmured, holding your hands. He was on the floor next to you, smoothing your hair. "I don't mind. I mean, I've liked you since first year, when you stood up for me after the stupid pudding prank. So, this is a dream come true."
> 
> You said nothing, your shoulders shaking. His hand tilted your chin up to look at him, the resolve in his bright blue eyes melting away. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The house in front of you was one of the oddest homes you've ever seen. Granted, you haven't seen many houses, but still. The ones you had seen weren't anything like this. A rickety, rundown shack with what looked like sheds stacked haphazardly on top greeted you, and you smiled.

Fred led you inside, his hand grasping yours. He showed you around, giving you brief descriptions and never staying in one room too long. He gently guided you upstairs to a little room off the center of the hallway, where a bunk bed and a dresser was grouped in the corner, taking up as little space as possible.

"My humble resting place," he mumbled, red in the face as you began exploring. You peered around in corners, looking through the window at the outside. You kept your facial expression inscrutable, turning back to him.

"It's not much," he admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. "It's perfect," you murmured. He stumbled, laughing, and bumped into the wall loudly. A louder knock responded.

"Watch it! I'm trying to work," an irritated voice growled, the voice carrying through the wall easily. 

"Sorry, Perce!" Fred called out, smiling at you. "My brother Percy," he mumbled to you, leaning his forehead against yours. "He got a job at the Ministry and now he won't let us even breathe too loudly, because he's working on 'top secret' files." 

***

"So…" Arthur said over dinner, trying to hide his smile behind a napkin. He and Molly shared a look. "My office has been working through a few kinks, and we've gotten the most generous gift from the Minister in exchange for the overtime we've put in."

You looked up at Fred, who was eating a spoonful of your treacle. You let a playful hiss, smacking his spoon away from your bowl. "Pay attention to your father."

"Sorry, Mum," he shot back teasingly. Percy hushed you, a cross look on his face. Both you and Fred turned and simultaneously stuck your tongues out at him. He turned back to face Arthur, and George flung a spoonful of potatoes at him.

"Guys, listen," Arthur said, grinning. "I've got eleven tickets for the Quidditch World Cup later this June."

Silence fell around the table. You shot Fred a wide-eyed look that he returned. A slow silence stretched, before the Weasley family burst into applause. Arthur bowed and high-fived his sons with a smile. "That's right," he said cheerfully, "eleven tickets. Bill, Charlie, Percy, the twins, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Y/N. And me," he added as an afterthought.

The Weasleys smiled and celebrated, high-fiving and whistling. You stayed still in your seat, your gaze frozen to your plate. Fred noticed and rubbed your back reassuringly. "Are you okay?"

You shook your head. "Mrs. Weasley, why aren't you going?"

"Not enough tickets," she said with a shrug. "I've never really liked Quidditch anyway. Me and a few of my friends are going out for the evening, then I'm cleaning and relaxing."

"You should go," you mumbled quietly. "I can go back to the home for a few days--"

"Nonsense," Mrs.Weasley said with a chuckle. "Enjoy yourself, dearie. We're happy to have you. Heaven knows what might happen with all of the silly Muggle accidents left and right--"

You stood abruptly, tears gathering in your eyes. You choked out a harsh, "Excuse me!" and left as quickly as you could, one hand over your mouth to keep the sob that so desperately wanted out in check. Fred watched you go, rising from his chair to race after you.

"Mum," he and George said at the same time. "Her parents were Muggles, they died in an accident…"

Fred basically ran up the stairs after you. Opening doors and coverings, he called your name, stopping at the broom closet at the end of the third floor hallway. Your soft sobs could be heard.

You looked up shakily when he came in. You had been buried in his jumper, inhaling his scent to calm yourself. He sunk to his knees next to you, rubbing your back. You wrapped your arms around him, coming undone in his arms.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, shushing you when your words turned into a sob. "No rush, take your time to calm down."

"I'm sorry," you hiccuped. "I'm just not over their... their death yet, and I know she didn't mean anything by it, it still hurts."

"It's fine," he said, brushing your hair back. "Shh."

"And I know it's hard," you continued, wiping your eyes. "I'm under the influence of two and a half butterbeers and an attempted assault and I just throw myself at you…"

"Hey, no," Fred murmured, holding your hands. "I don't mind. I mean, II've liked you since you took the blame for the stupid pudding prank in first year. So this is like a dream come true."

You said nothing, shoulders shaking with sobs. Was he acting anymore? His hand tilted your chin up, and you met his eyes. The resolve in his baby blue irises dissolved, and he leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

Sparks. That was the first thing your body could register. It felt like your lips were on fire, yet you kissed back, your arms around his neck. You could taste your tears. As quickly as it happened, it stopped. You pulled away, mortified, and stood quickly. He reached for you but you dodged, making your way out of the closet and to the bathroom. As you washed your hands, you could only register one thing.

You weren't acting anymore. And neither was he.


End file.
